


I Like It All That Way

by apolloadama



Series: I Can Feel You [2]
Category: Fringe
Genre: Anal Sex, Cortexiphan, Light Bondage, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-04
Updated: 2012-05-04
Packaged: 2017-11-04 19:39:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apolloadama/pseuds/apolloadama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Porn Without Plot: Nick and Lincoln. So what's sex with a reverse empath like, anyway?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Like It All That Way

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read "I Can Feel You," stop now, go back, do that first. It will make this one better, swear.

At first it was just the whisper of a tingle, as if Nick was blowing softly against his skin, making the hair stand straight up. The first time they met, him holding Nick’s wrist tight in his left hand, Lincoln had felt the ghost of a hand clasped around his own right wrist, and on top of that, a layer of arousal so unexpected but so welcome that he’d almost knocked Nick onto the ground and sucked a hickie into his neck on the spot. He’d looked Nick in the eye properly that day, and he’d seen himself: all his desires, the ones he fantasized about and occasionally enacted when he miraculously found another boy in Philadelphia willing to go there with him, were flooding into him—but from a different angle. And he didn’t know how he knew, how he knew so deeply and so innately that he was feeling Nick’s wants inside himself, but when Nick finally shared his secret with him, told him he projected his emotions to other people but especially to him, Lincoln’s complete lack of surprise was overshadowed only by the feeling of Nick’s surprise and relief filtering through him.

He knew himself, he did. He was never shy with his feelings, had always worn his heart on his sleeve, and when he felt Nick, he could almost always tell the difference between his emotions and Nick’s emotions. His feelings were an ocean inside him, and Nick was a wave.

Except sometimes—sometimes that wave of emotion flowing through him from Nick felt more like a riptide, and Lincoln felt himself pulled into it, almost lost in the current. It was a little frightening, and a little worrying, but mostly it was exhilarating, and when it happened—Lincoln never wanted it to stop.

Lincoln licked a stripe from Nick’s clavicle to the corner of his jaw and then nibbled on the lobe of his ear, tugging gently and grinning when he heard Nick gasp. A bolt of _need_ drove sideways through him, and his fingers dug into Nick’s hip, pushing him down into the bed and holding him there.

“Oh god—please—Linc—please—”

Lincoln shook his head, laughing against Nick’s shoulder. “Not yet.”

“Can’t you—I _want_ —” 

“I know,” Lincoln whispered darkly, biting lightly into the skin of Nick’s bicep, then licking at the salty sweat. _“I can feel you.”_

Nick swore and his hips bucked up, but Lincoln’s hand held him down. Lincoln pulled away, his hand against Nick’s hip their only point of contact. Nick’s face said everything: his eyes half-closed and glassy, his mouth open in a pant, his skin glistening with sweat. Lincoln watched as Nick sucked his lower lip into his mouth and bit hard on it, trying to distract himself from everywhere Lincoln wasn’t touching. Lincoln knew Nick as well as he knew himself when they were together like this, sometimes better. He took pity on him and moved so he was straddling Nick’s hips, and then he pinned him in place with his knees.

Not being held down anymore, Nick couldn’t help the rhythmic thrusts upward of his hips, trying to get friction where there wasn’t any. He whined deep back in his throat, hands coming up from where they had been by his sides, fingers clutching the sheets, to grasp for his cock, but Lincoln smiled and grabbed both wrists tight, pressing them up against the headboard.

“If you touch yourself I’m going to _lose it_ ,” Lincoln scolded him. “Can you keep them there?” Nick only blinked up at him heavily, a crooked half-grin giving him away. Lincoln chuckled. “I didn’t think so.” He reached for the handkerchiefs at the corner of the bed where he’d left them in case things went in this direction. They liked this direction. This was a good direction. 

Lincoln pushed Nick’s hand up closer to the headboard, and then tied it with a handkerchief. He shuddered with anticipation as he felt the echo of the feel of cotton around his own wrist, and moved to secure Nick’s other hand. Nick pulled against his binds, testing them, and then bucked up against Lincoln, catching him by surprise. The slick heat of Nick’s cock sliding against his own coupled with Nick’s own emotional surge of smug satisfaction at finally getting a little of what he wanted left Lincoln gasping, sitting back from Nick, breaking any skin-on-skin contact so he could get himself back under control.

“Damnit Nick, not _yet_ ,” Lincoln growled, then laughed at the plaintive moan Nick gave in response. 

Lincoln breathed in deep and held the breath, pinching hard at the base of his cock to pull himself back from orgasm. He blew out, closing his eyes and trying to think about unsexy things, not about the beautiful boy spread out and tied up in front of him. He could feel the curl of Nick’s feelings reaching out and wrapping themselves into him, could feel Nick’s desire as loudly as he felt his own, and it took all his self control to not just jerk himself and Nick off as quickly as possible and be done, but what he was waiting for was going to be _so much_ better.

Lincoln opened his eyes and felt the breath knocked out of him by how gorgeous Nick looked, digging his toes into the sheets to keep from twisting over and fucking into the bed.

“God, you’re incredible,” Lincoln murmured, and Nick opened his eyes, all blue and brimming with love, and his mouth curved into a smile.

“So are you,” he said to Lincoln, and reached a foot out, pressing his toes against Lincoln’s left hipbone.

Lincoln clasped a hand loosely around Nick’s ankle, then held it a little tighter and pushed it back toward and Nick’s body. He grabbed Nick’s other ankle and bent the knee, then pushed the ankles out, widening the angle as much as Nick could take it until he was staring at the pink pucker of his asshole. Lincoln groped blindly for the lube, left earlier on the same corner of the bed as the handkerchiefs.

“Okay?” he asked Nick, and the flood of _yes god yes_ desire that swept over him would have been enough of an answer, but Nick nodded too.

Lincoln uncapped the lube and coated the fingers of his left hand in it, rubbing them together to warm it up for Nick. Then he moved forward and pressed his index finger against Nick’s entrance, just holding it there, pushing lightly, feeling the heat of Nick’s skin blazing against him and the pulses of Nick’s ache at wanting _more_ rushing through him. He concentrated, pressing his forehead against the crook of Nick’s knee, and he could begin to feel what Nick felt—not just emotions but—the _touches_ . Lincoln spread his legs.

“Please, Linc,” Nick whimpered, and Lincoln locked eyes with him and nodded.

_“Yes.”_

Lincoln pushed his finger into Nick slowly, so carefully, and as he felt the tight heat throb around his finger, he could feel the faint press of a phantom finger inside himself. Lincoln jolted and moaned, and Nick pushed his hips up, trying to get Lincoln deeper inside him. He strained up and then finally collapsed down, and Lincoln felt the frustration.

He grinned and grabbed one of the pillows. Nick lifted his hips up without needing to be told, and Lincoln slid the pillow underneath him. The angle was so much better, and Nick’s head thumped back against the bed, his mouth wide open, his eyes lolling back in his head, hands clutched tight around the posts of the headboard, the handkerchiefs still keeping him there. Lincoln turned his attention back to his ass.

He slowly worked his finger in and out of Nick, loosening him up, and when he felt the edge of Nick’s desperation inside himself, he slipped another finger inside.

They groaned simultaneously, Lincoln feeling what Nick felt and straining against himself to keep it together, just a little longer. With his free hand he reached down and squeezed hard again at the base of his cock, and then kissed the side of Nick’s leg.

“You’re perfect,” Lincoln mouthed wetly against the soft sensitive part of Nick’s inner thigh. _“Perfect.”_ Nick pulled against his bonds, trying to get Lincoln to come up for a proper kiss, but not yet, not yet.

Lincoln kept working his fingers inside Nick, opening him, and then closed his eyes and bit hard against the inside of his cheek before sliding a third finger in.

_“Fuck,”_ Nick and Lincoln gasped at the same time, and Lincoln tried to count backwards from a hundred to take his mind off the throbbing need to come that had completely taken over.

He tried to disconnect his mind from the three fingers he had pushing up and down inside Nick, but it was like trying to separate heat from fire. He thought about anything—everything to stop himself from coming right there, nothing touching him, all over Nick’s stomach and chest—he thought about the Statue of Liberty, trig proofs, Thom Yorke—

“Just do it,” hissed Nick. “ _Do it,_ please, do it, I _need_ you— _inside_ —” 

Lincoln bit so hard down on his lip that he drew blood, and that tanginess shocked him back enough to have the presence of mind to remove his fingers from Nick and grab the condom by the lube, ripping the wrapper open and sliding it onto his dick in one swift movement before pouring more of the lube onto his cock, slicking himself up and pushing up against Nick’s entrance.

He grabbed Nick’s ankles and spread him wide, wide open, beautiful and slick and waiting for him, and he steadied himself, knowing what was going to happen.

As Lincoln pressed the tip of his cock inside Nick, he almost fell apart at the echo of the sensation inside his own ass. “Oh—god, Nick—I can _feel_ it—” Lincoln moaned, and Nick slid his legs around Lincoln’s back, locked his ankles, and _pulled_ , forcing Lincoln deep inside in one quick motion. 

Lincoln cried out, falling over on top of Nick, his cock throbbing in the tight heat surrounding it. Lincoln dragged his teeth gently across Nick’s chest, curled his hands around Nick’s biceps, then braced himself and thrust in once, hard.

Nick’s shout came only a second before Lincoln’s, and Lincoln closed his eyes against the tears streaming down his cheeks. He could feel it, feel it _all_ —the warmth of Nick’s skin against his own, the tight heat of Nick’s ass clenching around his cock, and the phantom fullness of having something inside Lincoln’s own ass. He was overwhelmed, overwhelmed by the waves of _want_ coming from Nick surging over the thick pound of _need_ inside Lincoln. It was amazing, but so much— _so much_ —and Lincoln thought fleetingly that he would never feel this much again in his life, that this was the pinnacle of everything, the two of them together, body and soul and mind and heart, pushed against and through each other and entwined in every sense of the word. 

Lincoln jerked his hips forward again, and Nick bore down onto him, pushing him deeper inside than before. Lincoln let out a strangled moan into Nick’s pec, and then started a rhythmic push against Nick, and Nick met him, pushing back against every slick thrust of Lincoln’s cock into him, and Lincoln felt the hot twist building and twirling inside his abdomen.

He was going to come—come _soon_ —come—Lincoln reached a hand to Nick’s cock and started jerking him off, trying to match the rhythm of their hips together but failing and just pushing his fist over Nick’s dick erratically, utterly distracted by the wrecked look on Nick’s face, and then Nick’s hips pushed up off the bed, thrusting into Lincoln’s fist and Lincoln let out a choked-off cry as he felt Nick’s orgasm building coupled on top of his own that was already peaking and then it crashed together inside him and he came, came so hard, pushed deep inside Nick and his face buried in the crook of his neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses to Nick’s clavicle. 

A few more jerks of his fist and Nick was coming too, and Lincoln trembled on top of him, feeling what Nick was feeling and overcome by it, shivers of oversensitivity sweeping through him but leaving him completely undone, unable to move an inch from where he was splayed, heavy, over Nick’s chest.

They breathed hard together for a couple minutes, just trying to get back down to earth again, and then Nick pulled against his restraints again.

“Lincoln,” Nick murmured. “My hands.”

“ _God_ ,” Lincoln moaned, and stretched one arm out as far as he could to undo the knot on Nick’s right wrist. He collapsed again and let Nick undo the left handkerchief, his arm still slung over Nick’s shoulder, and then he grimaced, shifting his hips so his dick slipped out of Nick, and thank god, thank _god_ , Nick put his arms down, rubbed circulation back into his wrists, and then pulled the condom off Lincoln and tied the end into a knot, throwing it over towards the trash can. 

Nick wrapped his arms around Lincoln’s back, and Lincoln pressed kisses into Nick’s neck, too tired to move anything but his lips.

“You’re the best,” Lincoln breathed against Nick, and Nick laughed.

“If you say so,” he said.

“I do,” Lincoln replied. “I do say so. And I’m right.”

“Okay,” Nick whispered, and then Lincoln felt it, what he always waited for after they had sex, the best part: the warmth of total happiness reaching out from Nick and touching inside him, filling Lincoln up with his love, completely, literally, leaving Lincoln’s heart pounding at the never-old realization of how _much_ Nick loved him.

Lincoln wished for a second that he had been in Jacksonville too, had had the cortexiphan and had become a… whatever Nick called himself, he didn’t have a name for it, really. But what Nick could do, Lincoln wanted to be able to do that too, so he could push his own warmth of contentment back to Nick and they could curl up in that perfectly symmetrical bubble of bliss, two halves of a whole. Because Lincoln wore his heart on his sleeve but it was impossible to really get across the depth of his emotion for this boy, this beautiful, sweet, perfect boy spread out underneath him. Words could never be enough.

Lincoln hummed against Nick’s skin and felt the heaviness of sleep come over him, and managed to lift his head just in time to see Nick’s eyes close into slumber. He smiled, craned his neck to kiss the underside of Nick’s chin, and then succumbed to sleep, wrapped up in love.


End file.
